The Character of Lavender Brown
by Reels
Summary: The scars were ugly. But they did add something to Lavender Brown.


Lavender hated the scars the most.

She had been stunned by someone else entirely, falling back on the stone floor of Hogwarts. Her head cracked against the hard surface, and that's where the bleeding first started. By some grace of God Lavender had kept her wand in her hand, she just couldn't move. She supposed the Death Eater was taking his time in killing her, allowing her to fully grasp the situation before blasting her life away with a brilliant green light. They were a sadistic lot, her last year at Hogwarts taught her that. Looking back, that would have been a nice alternative. But, Lavender certainly didn't expect that beast of a man to be upon her, lifting her up by her collar, holding her by the face with the other hand as he observed her.

"You're a pretty one, aren't ya?" He said, grinning. His breath was poisonous, and she could see the sharp, decaying teeth. "I like the girls pretty. Something about ripping them up. It's like watching them wither up, till they're so _ugly_." He hissed this word, smile widening, claws digging into her face. Four on her left cheek, the bottom one along her jaw. One on her right cheek, almost an extension to her mouth. These were the scars she hated the most, ugly marks everyone would see till she died. Ugly reminders she'd carry with her the rest of her life, unable to escape the memories every time she looked in a mirror, or caught her reflection in a store window.

Lavender lifted her wand, stabbing the man in the eye with it. He dropped her to the ground, landing hard on her knees before she was up and away, putting at much distance between the two as she could. He let out a roar, glaring at her now, one eye red and watering. He seemed almost feral as he lurched forward, baring his teeth, claws extended.

_Oh_, Lavender thought. _Werewolf_._ Wonderful_.

She screamed out a spell, blasting the man back. Ineffective, for the most part, as he was up and charging again, too soon for Lavender to collect herself. He grabbed her by her wand arm, again ripping through her flesh. Five on her right upper arm. Four on the top, so that she'd see them if she wore short sleeves. One on the back so that people behind her would see, too. She dropped her wand as her hand spasmed, screaming out in pain. Did he rip through muscle? Unlikely. Did it still hurt? Like a bitch.

Being without a wand when faced with a werewolf was unsettling to say the least. By some wonderful miracle, the very foundation of the castle seemed to shake at that point. Giants, as Lavender would later learn. Both fell back as they lost their footing. She was able to grasp her wand again, but not before the man was reaching for her, tearing through her exposed inner thigh like paper. Skirts were out, as were shorts. It was a shame really; Lavender had always liked her legs. And pants were always too hot in the summer. The girl rolled away from the beast, standing and shouting another spell. This one seemed to work better with the man all ready on the ground. She began running again as he got his bearings.

He was upon her in no time. The wounds in her leg made her slow and before she knew it there he was again. He was no longer smiling, snarling underneath his breath at her. She could see her blood dripping from his claws. Lavender realized something then that she'd kind of been denying all night; she was going to die. _He_ was going to kill her. Not with magic. That would have been a blessing at this point. He was going to rip her apart. He was going to sink his teeth into her. Here it was, she supposed. The end. She'd always wondered at the end, as she figured many people did. She'd hoped to go peacefully, if not on her own terms.

It was around this point that she realized she was cornered between the edge of a balcony. She backed fully onto the ledge, peering slightly over her shoulder. The fall would kill her; surely, if not the way her body would crack against the stone. The man seemed to catch onto her idea as he watched her looking over the ledge. He'd have none of it. This was his target. No way he'd let her off herself when he was certainly willing to do the job.

Tackling her over the edge probably wasn't the best route, of course, but he liked the idea as much after they landed as when he first came up with it. He threw her away from him before they reached the ground, landing on all fours with ease as she lay lifeless where she had landed.

This was the best part. He bared his teeth and began charging, not expecting or seeing the blast before it was throwing him back, slamming him against the nearest wall. The falling stone, or whatever it was, was also a surprise, and did a very nice job of knocking him out.

Lavender, for her part, was in an awful lot of pain. She became vaguely aware of all the blood currently pouring from her. Perhaps the cuts were deeper than she thought. That was the second time she'd slammed her head on the unforgiving stone floors of Hogwarts, and she was now loosing consciousness. She heard a voice she recognized screaming a very loud, "NO!" before she was completely gone.

It was maybe a week later before Lavender would allow any visitors to see her at St. Mungo's. Unsurprisingly, Parvati was one of the first. Surprisingly, Seamus Finnigan was with her.

Her best friend studied Lavender's new face, frowning slightly as she ran an index finger across one of the scars. "It'll easily be covered up with makeup," Parvati assured her. Lavender smiled at the effort, and Parvati tried not to break eye contact as her face twisted into something ugly.

Seamus had been quiet, not looking at the young woman until now. "You know, Lavender," He said after a moment, the girl turning her attention to him now. "The scars, well, they aren't too bad, yeah?"

The girl rolled her eyes, annoyed. "Right, Seamus."

"Ah, now, don't get annoyed," He seemed desperate to find the right words. "It's just…they give you character, don't they? I mean, how many people can say, 'Yeah, I fought a werewolf, and I've got the scars to prove it'?" The man shrugged, turning red. "It's…badass, in a way, isn't it?"

No one said anything, Parvati rolling her eyes at the man while Lavender thought on that for a moment. She liked the idea, that it gave her character. Not that she wouldn't be ashamed and embarrassed by her new traits.

But they did give her a story to tell.

xx

I have been wanting to write a little something for Lavender since I finished The Deathly Hallows. Really love how this came out.

You've read this far, why not tell me what you think?

-Reels


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